


The In-Between Moments

by CrimsonBitch



Series: How to (Accidentally) Tame a Mad Dog [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Baking, Domestic Fluff, Family Fluff, Fluff, Found Family, Hair Dyeing, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Modeling, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:08:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29710713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonBitch/pseuds/CrimsonBitch
Summary: Building a family is a lot like building a house except, instead of bricks and concrete, the foundation is laid with silent displays of support and quiet affection.AKA Three times that Kyoutani fit into Oikawa and Iwaizumi's lives so seamlessly, one might think he was meant to be there all along.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Series: How to (Accidentally) Tame a Mad Dog [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2141280
Comments: 31
Kudos: 196





	The In-Between Moments

**Author's Note:**

> As most of this series has been pretty heavy, I wanted to work on my fluff writing skills haha.

**Suga**

Kyoutani looked up from his homework, narrowing his eyes as he heard Yahaba’s pencil scratching diligently from across the couch. It was a quiet Saturday in early February and the boys had both spent the weekend at the older men’s apartment, but today Oikawa had needed to go into his office to settle an issue with one of the editors. 

“We have a math test Monday,” Kyoutani grouched to the boy. 

“I know that” Yahaba smirked.

“So why are you doodling instead of studying?” 

“I _am_ studying” 

“At least let me see” Kyoutani sat up, trying to lean in towards Yahaba’s side of the couch. Yahaba let out a yelp and pushed the blond boy’s chest with a socked foot, effectively shoving the boy back to his own side. 

“Go away!” Yahaba laughed as Kyoutani tried harder to see what the boy was drawing. Yahaba squealed and continued shoving Kyoutani away, which meant that their playful shoving devolved into a wrestling match. Right as Kyoutani got the upperhand, they were interrupted by Iwaizumi shuffling out of his bedroom. They were surprised, because he hadn’t been there last night when they came. 

“You two,” He pointed at them, “Shut up.”

Kyoutani froze for a moment, a wave of hot fear washing over him. Yahaba didn’t seem to notice, instinctively moving himself to sit between the blond and the man walking by them. Kyoutani released a breath as Iwaizumi moved past to grab a glass of water. 

“I’m fuckin’ exhausted,” Iwaizumi yawned, “I was working with one of my athletes so long that I forgot all about a mound of fucking paperwork I had to get done before Monday. I didn’t get home until two am.”

“Jesus,” Yahaba said to the older man, “Go back to bed.”

“That’s the plan, pipsqueak. Which means you two need to be a little quieter, please .” 

The two boys nodded, sheepishly returning to their homework. Iwaizumi gave them a sleepy smile, silently apologizing for his grumpy behavior. The slightly-dead look in his eyes returned, however, when they heard an persistent knocking on the door. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes before dragging his feet to find out who needed them so urgently at 11 am on a Saturday.

“Suga?” Iwaizumi questioned, seeing the gray haired man standing on their doorstep, holding a large cardboard box. 

“Hey Iwa!” The man grinned, “I’m here to use your kitchen.”

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow but let the man come in and drop the box on the kitchen counter. 

“What’s all this?” 

“Well Daichi’s younger sister is down for the weekend and we’re throwing her a surprise birthday party. I texted Oikawa and he said it was okay”

“He’s not even fuckin’ home,” Iwaizumi groaned to himself. “Don’t you… have an apartment with a kitchen?”

“Well sure, but she’s at our apartment. It’s a _surprise,_ dummy.”

“You literally own a bakery.”

“We both know Noya can’t keep a secret. And he and Akemi have been texting.”

“And Daichi is aware that Noya is talking to his sister?” Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow, but Suga’s lips twisted into his little Mona Lisa smile. 

“The three of us made an executive decision not to tell him. It’s hard enough to find decent employees. Can’t have my only one getting curb stomped to death.” 

“I still can’t believe you hired that dumbass.”

“He may not be… _gifted_ at cooking, but his people skills are good. And if I leave detailed enough instructions, then he does just fine.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, but he was too tired to come up with any more arguments. 

“There’s too much for one person to do, and I’m on a time limit. Is there any chance you’d be able to help me out? I _really_ need to get these done,” Suga batted his eyelashes, but Iwaizumi just scoffed and shoved his face away. 

“Fuck no. I’m exhausted. I’m sure the kids can help though.”

Suga turned on his heel, looking at the two boys on the couch. He had heard about the two boys that had been crashing at the apartment, but this was the first time he was meeting them. At least, he thought it would be. 

His eyes flashed with recognition when he laid eyes on the blond boy, and Kyoutani held his gaze with an angry stare. One side of Suga’s mouth quirked up, but he stayed silent, nodding towards the two. “You guys up for it? How do you feel about baking?”

“Never done it” they both said in freaky unison. He shrugged. “No time like the present. Wanna help me?”

The boys nodded and clambered off the couch. Relieved that he didn’t have to do anything, Iwaizumi yawned and walked back to his bedroom. He reached out quickly to ruffle Kyoutani’s hair as he passed the boy, but his hand was swatted away as soon as it made contact. 

“Alright” Suga said, placing ingredients across the counter, “Let’s get started. I’m thinking one of you helps me with the baking and one starts setting up a decoration station on the table.”

“Yahaba should do decorations,” Kyoutani motioned towards the brunette, “He’s a good artist.”

“Is that so?” Suga said to Yahaba, shoving a few piping bags along with containers of icing into the boys arms. 

“I suppose,” Yahaba said quietly, his cheeks heating up as he shot Kyoutani an exasperated look. Kyoutani smirked in return. 

“That means you’re with me blondie!” Suga grinned, now unpacking baking supplies and loading Kyoutani’s arms. 

“Don’t call me blondie.” The boy grouched, still helping to unpack the ingredients. 

“Uh huh. Whatever you say, blondie.”

Kyoutani rolled his eyes, but measured the ingredients as Suga asked for them. They three had a rhythm going eventually, Yahaba making conversation with Suga as they mixed and measured and the brunette boy began creating colored icing. 

Soon enough, they were pulling batches of cookies and cupcakes out of the oven. They cooled while Suga cleaned up the various baking ingredients before Iwaizumi saw and yelled at them for messing up the cabinets he had just painted last month. 

Finally, the massive amount of baked goods were moved to the table, and all three of them were equipped with piping bags full of white frosting. 

“Alright, this is what I’m thinking for the cupcakes,” Suga informed distractedly as he finished off the first cupcake and showed it to the two boys. It was a fairly simple swirl design, covering the whole top. “We’ll do them all like this, then I’ll show you how to do flowers on them.”

The boys nodded, and set to work while Suga started icing the cookies, which he knew took much more skill. After a few minutes, he looked over, seeing that Yahaba had a few cupcakes done, all perfectly identical and impressively similar to the model Suga had left out for reference. 

“Nice Yahaba! You’ve got a real touch for this- Blondie? What are you doing?”

“I’m fucking _frosting_ ” Kyoutani growled, from where his body was hunched protectively over his cupcake. 

“Can we… see it?” Suga asked, confused as to how a single cupcake had been taking this long. 

“It’s… not done.” Kyoutani muttered angrily, leaning back and letting the two other men see what he had been hiding from view. Yahaba let out a sharp laugh and Suga simply stared incredulously. 

What once was a vanilla cupcake seemed like chunks of crumbs, held together by copious amounts of frosting, molded into a dented cupcake wrapper. 

“What the fuck did you do to it kid?” Suga asked, his eyes flicking between the blond and the cupcake. 

“I said it wasn’t done. I started, but these things are fragile, and it started falling apart, so I had to keep it together, but then gluing the bits back on made more fall off… it’ll be fine, I just need to finish it.” Kyoutani said, picking up the cupcake and sighing with frustration when half of it fell onto the table with an audible _plop_. Suga set a hand on his wrist, guiding it back to the table and trying desperately to not burst out in laughter. 

“We’ll call that one a wash. You two can eat that one.”

“How,” Yahaba wheezed in between laughs, “did you even _do_ that!?!”

“Don’t fuckin’ worry about it” Kyoutani mumbled. Picking up another cupcake, he demanded that Yahaba showed him how he had been doing them. He finished off a few. They were pretty unfortunate-looking, but nowhere near as bad as the one that had to be put in the kitchen because Yahaba started laughing every time he saw it. 

At some point, Iwaizumi wandered out of his room to investigate the raucous laughter coming from the dining room. He looked over the batches of cupcakes, smiling and pointing at the five sitting in front of the blond boy. 

“It was so kind of you to let those blind, fingerless mutant children help out.” He smirked, laughing when Kyoutani looked up and fixed him with a burning glare. He laughed harder when he saw that the blond boy had frosting on his forehead. As he passed behind the table, he licked his thumb and darted in to wipe the frosting off of Kyoutani’s forehead. The boy pulled back and smacked Iwaizumi’s hand away, but Iwaizumi was faster. 

“Yahaba, those look awesome” Iwaizumi said, looking at the brunette boy’s cupcakes. 

“Thanks” The boy smiled cheekily, poking his tongue out at Kyoutani when the blonde boy glared between the two of them. 

“Well... now all that’s left is the flowers.” Suga said slowly, eyes darting between the two boys. Yahaba seemed to pick up whatever subliminal message the grey-haired man was sending, because he reached out. 

“Suga and I will decorate these,” He said, pulling the majority towards him, “And you can do those.”

Kyoutani looked down, and realized that the only cupcakes in front of him were the five or so that he frosted. 

“... Fuck you both.” Kyoutani deadpanned, crossing his arms and tilting his chair back. Iwaizumi grabbed the chair and put it back into place, muttering something about cracking his skull open. 

“Hey don’t let us discourage you!” Yahaba grinned, “you’re good at plenty of things!”

“I’m not discouraged, you’re both just assholes” Kyoutani grumbled, but the slight upward tick of his lips gave him away. Looking at the undeniably hideous goods, Kyoutani could see the humor of the situation. They were _really_ ugly cupcakes. 

As Suga showed Yahaba how to do the little flower designs, Kyoutani picked up his own piping bag. _Fine_ , he thought to himself, _If I can’t make flowers, I’ll just draw something else._

By the time Yahaba had finished a few of the cupcakes, he finally looked over. 

“Kentaro are you _serious_!?” The brunette howled with laughter. The five cupcakes in front of him all had dicks of various colors and sizes. 

“ _What did he do?”_ Iwaizumi called from the couch. Yahaba did his best to answer, even if he couldn’t seem to stop laughing.

“Ooh! Keep that one!” Suga snorted, “I’m gonna give that one to Daichi.”

“ _You’re cruel, Suga”_ Iwaizumi hollered out.

“Hush Iwa. I’m leaving the rest of them with you.” 

The rest of the cupcakes were decorated over playful conversation. Suga told the boys stories about the bakery, and his well-meaning but overly-excitable employee. The looks he sent to Kyoutani told the blond boy Suga absolutely remembered him, but he still said nothing, describing Noya as though the two had never met. 

Kyoutani gave up on trying to decorate any more cupcakes, instead poking a socked foot into Yahaba’s side in hopes of making the boy break his concentration and finally mess one up. 

As they finished and Suga was packing up his supplies, the door swung open. Oikawa walked in, eyes surveying the mess on the kitchen table before sighing exhaustively and dragging his feet towards the couch. He dropped, half on top of Iwaizumi, and the other man grunted in protest, but pet the head of brown hair that was dropped in his lap nonetheless. 

“I’m so tired,” Oikawa murmured. 

“I know” 

“They’re making a mess in our kitchen”

“I know” 

“Why did you let them do this?”

“You were the one that agree-”

“ _Why did you let them do this_?”

“Because I secretly hate you, and this is phase one of my plan to steadily drive you insane.”

“You’re the worst.”

“Whatever you say, Shittykawa”

Suga glared at the two of them. “I’m gonna clean it up, you dramatic jackasses.”

“Besides,” Yahaba grinned, “We made a cupcake just for you, Oikawa.”

This had the brunette man sitting up abruptly, knocking his face into Iwaizumi’s and making the other man groan in pain. “One for me!?” He asked excitedly. 

Yahaba nodded, inconspicuously grabbing one of the cupcakes off the table and making his way over to the two men, Kyoutani hot on his trail. “Close your eyes,” Yahaba said, placing the cupcake in his hand when his eyes were shut. 

Oikawa opened his eyes. His face dropped, and he did his best to look appalled, but he could hardly suppress the smile fighting it’s way onto his face

“Iwa-chan… did he just hand me a dick cupcake.”

“Look at who you’re dealing with. He’s like a mini-you.”

“ _Hey,”_ the two responded, the word saturated with offense from both parties. 

Oikawa smiled exhaustedly before peeling the wrapper and taking a massive bite. “Why do I feel like you’re somehow behind this?” he mumbled with his mouthful, looking directly at Kyoutani. 

“Because you have no faith in me.” the blond boy replied easily. 

“Why he’s the Picasso behind this beautiful piece!” Suga laughed. 

“The dick-casso, if you will.” Yahaba smiled, earning him a smack on the back of the head from Oikawa, who would scold him if his mouth wasn’t full of cupcake. 

“I gotta run. I left the rest of the dick cakes on your counter, along with a few of the cookies as a thank you for letting me overtake your kitchen.”

“No problem. It was fun!” Yahaba grins. 

“Debatable,” Kyoutani rolled his eyes. 

“You’ve got a real knack for this sort of thing,” Suga says to Yahaba, “are you old enough to work yet? I don’t know the law when it comes to that sort of thing.”

“He’s a few years off,” Iwaizumi snorts. 

“Oh well,” The grey-haired man shrugs, “You can come and help me out sometime, I’ll pay you under the table.”

“Okay, go feed your partygoers,” Oikawa said, “Thank you for the baked goods. And thank you for watching the boys.”

“He wasn’t babysitting us,” Kyoutani grumbled, “He was exploiting free child labor.”

“Awww Kyoutani!” Suga grinned, “Yahaba’s labor, sure, but your decorating might need a little work. Don’t be jealous though, I’m sure you’re good at other things!”

“Suga you’re _such_ a dick,” Oikawa laughed at the annoyed look on Kyoutani’s face, reaching out to pat the blonde’s shoulder, secretly overjoyed when the boy just allowed it to happen instead of pulling away. 

“Thank you boys for your help,” Suga said, “ _both_ of you.”

“Whatever. Enjoy your shitty party.” Kyoutani grumbled. Yahaba swatted him, and wished Suga a good afternoon as the grey-haired man left, his arms full of all the baking supplies, as well as multiple cases of baked goods. 

“Did you two have fun?” Oikawa asked. 

“Yeah” Yahaba nodded, “I’ve never baked before. I really liked it.” 

“That’s good! How about you Chihuahua? Is there a secret baker buried deep down in your icy cold heart?”

“Fuck no there isn’t” Kyoutani grunted, dropping down on the couch. He could deny that he had a good time, but the knowing look that Iwaizumi pointed towards him told the boy that he knew he was lying. 

“I’m starving” Iwaizumi groaned as he leaned his head back. Oikawa relaxed further, melting over Iwaizumi until the man shoved him off with a grunt. 

“Same. You guys wanna just get take-out? I’m too tired to cook.”

All in agreement, they ordered from the place on the corner and Oikawa talked about his day in the office while they waited. As his unofficial-but-obvious favorite, Yahaba dutifully listened and offered feedback. Iwaizumi and Kyoutani mostly made sarcastic commentary, and Oikawa pinched them in return. 

When the food got there, they put a movie on, and it was no surprise when they started falling asleep. Oikawa’s head was cushioned in Iwaizumi’s lap. Yahaba was curled up on the armchair and Kyotuani was on the floor with a throw pillow (and a blanket that Oikawa draped on him when the blond finally closed his eyes). 

Iwaizumi looked at the boys, thinking to himself. While Yahaba was at least friendly, both boys were pretty closed off about their lives. He and Oikawa had struggled to find things to do that the boys actually enjoyed and while it was unexpected, it seemed he had stumbled upon one. 

When they next went to the grocery store, he threw baking supplies in the cart. The next time the boys came over, Oikawa happened to be in the mood for cake, and demanded the boys help him. 

Soon it wasn’t uncommon for one of the men to come home to the smell of sugar and vanilla in the air. They tried new and increasingly complex recipes and while some were utter failures, the reason they never stopped was the faint smiles that appeared on the boy’s faces when they were stirring and kneading and frosting. 

The two men were committed to making the boys as comfortable as possible while they were in the apartment, and if one way to do that resulted in a steady stream of treats coming out of an increasingly messy kitchen, then so be it. There were worse bonding activities, they supposed. 

**Kenma**

The boys were working on a history report at the dining room table when they heard a knock at the door. Oikawa got up from the couch with a confused glance at Iwaizumi in the kitchen, who shrugged in return. 

Opening the door, Oikawa stepped aside, letting in a short man, whose two-toned hair was tied up in a bun. 

“Kenma” Oikawa asked, “To what do we owe the honor?”

“I need to redo my hair” the man responded quietly, fiddling with something on his hand-held game instead of looking up at Oikawa. 

“And that has to be done here?”

“The smell makes Kuroo nauseous. I usually do it at Bokuto and Akaashi’s place, but it’s date night for them, and I love them both but I’d rather avoid having to listen to four hours of passionate fu-”

“Not in front of the kids!” Oikawa squeaked, and for the first time since he entered, Kenma looked up in surprise. The boys looked back curiously. 

“My name’s Kenma,” the blond said quietly. 

“I’m Yahaba… this is Kyoutani,” The brunette boy spoke up. The blond nodded to them and returned back to his game. 

“Anyway, I want you guy’s opinions. I have a couple different color options and I want to know which I should go with.”

“Really? You know for such a shy guy I never understood why you have such crazy hair.” Iwaizumi called from the kitchen, having somehow overheard the man’s quiet mumbling. 

“It’s because-” 

“He just wants to look like a character in one of his stupid ass video games” Oikawa muttered. 

“You know,” Kyoutani spoke up, “just because you can’t beat any of them doesn’t mean they’re stupid. You’re just bad.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know-”

“It’s true,” Yahaba added, now addressing Kenma, “we played Mario Kart with him and he got last place. Neither of us had played Mario Kart before.”

“Okay but that’s just-”

“I’d believe it,” Kenma said, “I beat him in Smash Bros when he was sober and I was black out drunk. I don’t even remember the game, but Bokuto was video taping it and when I won he slapped my back and I fell off the couch and immediately passed out.”

“Shush, all of you!” Oikawa finally cries, turning back to the blonde. “Just do your damn hair.”

“You know, you would look good with purple hair, Oikawa”

“No thanks. No experimenting with your weird chemicals on my hair. I put too much effort into hair care.”

“He’s not joking” Iwaizumi noted, “He’s got more hair products than a damn salon in that friggin bathroom.”

“Fine,” Kenma conceded, then if I can’t test the colors then I need your opinions on them.”

Oikawa looked between the red and purple bottles, thinking. 

“I want purple hair,” Yahaba said. Kenma’s head shot up, an intense look in his eyes. 

“You’ll let me test it on you?”

“Hey- hey, no, the kids aren’t your guinea pigs” Iwaizumi called out, flipping something sizzling in a pan. 

“Guinea pigs can’t agree to product testing.” Kenma said, his eyes not leaving the two boys, “Children can.”

“Yeah, I want purple hair. Come on guys!”

“I suppose we technically aren’t in charge of you,” Oikawa said, “Although as the person here with the best style, I have to tell you I advise against it.” 

“Will you do it!?” Yahaba asked excitedly. Kenma nodded, the slight upward tick of his lips being the most excitement he’d ever show on his face. 

“Dibs on red,” Kyoutani said quietly, causing all four men around him to stare. “What?”

“Nothing,” Oikawa blinked, “just didn’t think it really seemed like your kind of thing.”

Kyoutani shrugged, catching the bottle when Kenma tossed it to him and inspecting the label. 

“Alright,” Kenma said, finally turning off his game, “I’m gonna do you guys first, then I’ll see how they turn out and decide which I want.”

The two boys nodded, getting up and following Kenma to the bathroom like ducklings. 

“You guys okay with getting dye on those clothes?” Kenma asked, pulling out gloves when the two boys nodded. 

It was messy, and Yahaba was given scrub-dye-off-white-counter-duty, but soon both boys were sitting with dye slowly drying in their hair. Yahaba had gotten a split dye, whereas Kyoutani had opted for stripes on the side of his head. The older men had threatened death if the three boys left the bathroom and got dye on the furniture, so instead the three stayed in the bathroom and took turns on Kenma’s gaming console. 

The three spent the half hour in relative silence, with Yahaba only talking to lean over Kyoutani’s shoulder and give unwarranted (and mostly wrong) advice about how to beat the game. 

Finally, the time passed, Kenma leaned Yahaba over the tub, rinsing the purple out into the tub with the detachable showerhead, and the boy marvelled at the bright purple water running into the tub. Kenma set Yahaba up with the blow drier and leaned Kyoutani’s head over the tub, blow drying his own soon after. 

With their hair finally dry, he spun both boys towards the mirror. 

“Holy shit!!” Yahaba smiled widely, “It’s so cool! Thanks dude!”

Kenma nodded his approval, ruffling Yahaba’s hair out and separating the colors. Kyoutani looked at his own hair, impressed by the red stripes. “It’s pretty cool,” the blond said quietly. 

“Your’s looks awesome too,” Yahaba reassured, flipping his hair around, effectively ruining Kenma’s effort at styling it. 

“I like the red, I think” Kenma spoke up quietly, “And since Kyoutani is blond it’s easier to see what it’ll look like.”

“You want our help?” Yahaba asked, while Kenma started separating his own hair.

“Nah. I’m practically an expert at this point.”

The brunette boy nodded, and dragged Kyoutani by the wrist out to the two older men, who were now on the couch with bowls of something steaming on their lap. 

“No shit, look at you two!” Oikawa smiled, leaning off of Iwaizumi and stood up, taking Yahaba’s chin and spinnin the boy so he could see all angles. “You’re like little punks! Next thing I know you’ll show up with chokers and fingerless gloves.”

“If I ever put on fingerless gloves, take me behind the building and shoot me.” Kyoutani muttered, sitting down heavily on the couch. 

“Roger that, kiddo,” Iwaizumi nodded.

After giving his approval to both boy’s hairstyles, Oikawa sent the boys to the kitchen to collect dumplings and come back. At some point in the movie, Kenma came out of the bathroom, his own hair red and brighter at the bleached strands. 

“Oh my god that looks awesome!” Oikawa gushed, reaching over to feel Kenma’s hair. Kenma nodded his thanks and sat down, gaming console in hand. “Let me get a picture of all three of you. You look like a punk band!” Oikawa said, getting up to look for his phone. 

“Please stop him,” Kenma muttered to Iwaizumi, who smirked in return. 

“Our bathroom smells like a chemical fire. Seems like a fair retribution.”

“Say cheese!” Oikawa said, holding up the camera. Yahaba smiled, Kenma didn’t look away from his game, and Kyoutani flipped off the camera. No bother to Oikawa, who took a few pictures and sat back down. 

“I have to go,” Kenma said, standing up, “I forgot to tell Kuroo where I was going and he texted me 18 times.”

“Clingy-ass man,” Oikawa muttered, getting him an incredulous look from everyone in the room. 

“How many times did you text Iwaizumi when Kyoutani was in the Hospital?” Yahaba asked.

“Well that was an emergen-”

“I have 14 unanswered messages from you today alone,” Iwaizumi added, checking his phone, “and we’ve been together all day.” 

Oikawa rolled his eyes, but settled back in, clearly recognizing this to be an uneven fight. “Whatever. Get back to whatever hell hole you crawled out of.”

“You’ve been to my apartment.”

“And it’s a hell hole compared to ours”

“It’s definitely objectively nicer”

“But it doesn’t have _me_ in it-”

“Please take me with you” both Iwaizumi and Kyoutani spoke, fist bumping at Oikawa’s offended scoff. 

“Thanks for doing our hair!” Yahaba said. 

“Say thanks, you little twerp,” Iwaizumi said playfully, twisting Kyoutani’s ear, the boy smacking him away and thanking Kenma. The now-red-haired man left, but not before stealing a few dumplings of his own. He let Yahaba play through a few levels while he ate, saying a quick goodbye and slipping out of the apartment as quietly as he had come. 

**Akaashi**

When Kyoutani showed up on their doorstep on Wednesday, Oikawa had just opened the door to leave for work. 

“Chihuahua? What are you doing?”

“I went to school but had forgotten that we don’t have school today.”

“Why not?” 

“Some teacher thing, or holiday bullshit.”

“Shit. Well me and Iwaizumi both have work.”

“Oh,” Kyoutani frowned, turning on his heel, “I’ll go home, it’s cool-”

“Nope! No no,” Oikawa said, grabbing Kyoutani’s collar, “You can… come to work with me!”

“Pass.”

“Not a question kiddo. I’m not leaving you alone all day. Just come to my office! It’ll be fun!” 

“Am I even allowed to go there?”

“You are now.” Oikawa said, closing the door behind him and starting down the hallway, smiling to himself when he noticed Kyoutani following out of the corner of his eye. 

“Whatever” Kyoutani grumbled, still walking behind Oikawa, even moving slightly closer when they made it out onto the busy street. They walked in silence, Oikawa humming some pop song he heard on the radio. After they got off the train, Oikawa led the boy to a massive building, swinging the door open. 

“Mornin’ Terushima”

“Hey Oikawa,” the man called out without looking up from his magazine, his feet propped up on the desk in a way that could not be allowed, “Who’s the kid?”

“This is Kyoutani. Kyoutani, this is Terushima. He's supposed to be security, but he’s really just a glorified secretary.”

“One of these days I’m gonna punch you, twinkle toes”

“Sure you will, bleach-damage. I’ll sic my personal athletic trainer on you.”

“I don’t think it counts if all the athletic training you do is in the bedroom.”

“This is why I love you Teru.”

“Bite me, Oikawa,” the fake-blond called out with a smirk as Kyoutani and Oikawa got on the elevator. 

“Do you have literally any normal friends?” the boy asked. 

“Fuck no- oh! Speaking of my friends, do you remember Akaashi?”

“Sure”

“He’ll be here today. I’ve been begging for him to let me photograph him forever, and he finally agreed.”

“He’s a model?”

“Not really, but he’s so pretty, everyone says he should be.”

Kyoutani shrugged, following behind Oikawa as the elevator stopped and they got out onto a floor full of glass offices and modern furnishings. Walking through, they made it to a room at the end of the hall. The room was dark, all lights centered on a white sheet hung up with a stool on it. 

“Kiyoko!” Oikawa called out, “You look prettier every time I see you!”

“Oikawa” a stern-looking woman responds, “I’m glad you’re here, we’ve got a problem- is this Kyoutani?” She cut herself off, eyes narrowing in on Kyoutani, causing the boy to take a step back. God, this woman’s intense. 

“Sure is. But what were you saying about a problem?” Oikawa asked, a nervous edge in his voice. 

“I’m going to need you to come with me.”

“Okay… one sec…” Oikawa thought to himself, before crouching to look Kyoutani in the eye. “Can you go hang with Akaashi for a while?”

“Fuck off, I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I know you don’t, but unfortunately I can’t have preteens running around the set. Just go hang out in the dressing room? Please? I’ll take you out for fast food later or something.”

“Fine.” Kyoutani rolled his eyes, but turned and walked towards the room labelled dressing room. Oikawa called out his thanks, but Kyoutani just flipped him off, causing a snicker from the black-haired woman. 

_She might be scary, but at least she’s got a sense of humor._

Opening the dressing room, Kyoutani looked around and saw about a dozen models of wildly varying appearances, before his eyes settled on a head of black, wavy hair towards the back. 

Kyoutani walked over, nodding a hello to the man, whose eyebrows raised in surprise at seeing the boy. 

“Kyoutani, hello. Do you not have school today?”

“Nope”

“Oh. Oikawa brought you here but got caught up in something and told you to come hang out with me?”

“Yep”

“Well take a seat I guess. I’m just getting ready.”

Kyoutani took a seat in the empty chair next to Akaashi, pulling his knees to his chest and getting a random worksheet out of his backpack. He stayed quiet for a few minutes, but Akaashi noticed his eyes flicking up when he pulled out his eyeliner stick, applying it to his eyes. 

He made eye contact in the mirror, and Kyoutani’s eyes darted away quickly, but Akaashi turned to look at the boy. 

“Do you want me to do your eyeliner?”

“What? No.”

Akaashi nodded, going back to the mirror. After a minute, he caught the boy staring again. 

“Are you sure?” the black haired man asked, watching Kyoutani seemed to chew on his words for a minute.

“No I- I can’t. My dad would kill me,” the blond boy said with an awkward grimace. Akaashi’s shoulders fell from their sacred hunch. 

“Mine would’ve too,” He said with a sad smile, “but that’s the beauty of growing up and moving away. One day you’ll be able to do whatever you want, and no asshole dads will be able to get mad. Anyways aren’t you… aren’t you staying with Oikawa and Iwaizumi mostly as of recent anyways?”

“I guess” Kyoutani grunted. 

“How about this? If you want, I can do it now and Oikawa can take it all off later at his apartment. He’s probably got a remover there, and your Dad will never know.”

Kyoutani stared at the eyeliner stick in Akaashi’s hand. The black-haired man would never force the boy to do anything, obviously, but he could sense this was something the boy wanted. He was just trying to make the decision easier. 

After a minute of internal debate, Kyoutani’s eyes flickered to his hands. 

“Will you paint my nails, too?”

Oikawa stalked from the set to the dressing room, steam coming out of his ears. One of the newer models had demanded a specific photographer that she had worked with in the past, and after all the hoops Kiyoko had jumped through to get him, the asshole had the nerve to cancel the day of the shoot. 

Now the duty of the photographer was to be split between Oikawa, Kiyoko, and Kiyoko’s assistant Yachi who, while showing incredible talent for photography, could barely walk through the set without crying from nerves. 

One time they had suggested she put on some of the clothes and model a few pieces, and the poor girl passed out. 

Oikawa took a deep breath of composure before opening the door and being hit with the noise of chattering models, all looking ready to get in front of the camera. 

He scanned the crowd, eyes falling on two familiar heads in the back. Walking towards them, he was shocked to see Akaashi holding Kyoutani’s hand, a small brush painting black onto his nails. They were both laughing quietly, and the expression was foreign on both their faces. Oikawa was overjoyed.

Lord knows both of them could use a little more laughter in their lives. 

“What are you two up to?” Oikawa asked, wandering towards them. 

“Your kid looks good in eyeliner.” Akaashi deadpanned, putting the little brush back in the bottle. Kyoutani blinked up at Oikawa, and the man had to admit that the blond looked good with smudged makeup around his eyes. 

Oikawa wouldn’t even notice that Akaashi had referred to Kyoutani as his kid until later that night in bed, where his eyes would shoot open and his cheeks would heat up, despite it being hours after it happened. 

“Awww chihuahua you look awesome! With that and the hair stripes you look so _punk_!”

Instead of growling like Oikawa had expected, a small smile broke out on Kyoutani’s face as he turned and looked at himself in the mirror. Oikawa’s joking smile melted into something more genuine, and even stone-faced Akaashi’s lips twitched upwards when he saw the subtle twinkle of excitement in the boy’s eye. 

“I’m glad you like it,” Akaashi said, standing up and changing into an outfit that OIkawa had set aside for him yesterday. The soft sweater and light jeans contradicted greatly with his dark hair makeup, but he looked _really_ pretty. 

“Ooh let me take a picture for Bo! Free spank bank material.” Oikawa grinned, pulling out his phone. Akaashi and Kyoutani exchanged disgusted faces at his wording, but Akaashi stood still while the pictures were taken. “I want a picture of you too, Chihuahua! You look so tough!”

“I’m taking all this off back at your apartment. My dad will kill me.” Kyoutani mumbled, not looking up for a picture. Sensing the slight atmospheric shift, Oikawa put his phone away, laying a light hand on Kyoutani’s shoulder. 

“Sure but… you can always crash at our place tonight. Then you don’t have to take it off right away”

The blond shrugged, but Oikawa assumed that meant yes. 

“ _Oikawa”_ a voice called from the doorway, “ _Get your guy out here!”_

The three left the dressing room, seeing that the voice had been Kiyoko, who was adjusting a camera in the middle of the room. 

Oikawa traded places with her while Akaashi sat on the stool in front of the white sheet. Kiyoko migrated towards Kyoutani on the side, and he tensed up. She might work in fashion, but if she was going to make a comment about his make-up, he was ready to fire back insults. 

She studied his face for a moment. 

“You should consider modelling in the future. You’ve got the bone structure for it”

“Whatever” the blond muttered, his shoulders dropping. Both of them turned back to watching Akaashi, as Oikawa called out adjustments and positions. The woman didn’t seem phased by his rudeness, and he felt himself relax a little as they watched Akaashi who seemed like a natural in front of the camera. 

As Oikawa and Kyoutani walked home at the end of the day, Oikawa stopped in front of the drugstore. 

“Stay here for a second Chihuahua, I’ve gotta grab something.” The blond nodded, and leaned on the outside of the drugstore for five minutes, giving death glares to any passersby who stared at the boy in makeup too long. Fuck those people. He could do whatever the fuck he wanted. 

Oikawa exited the drugstore, and Kyoutani fell into step beside him. The man handed him a small paper bag while they walked and Kyoutani looked at it, confused. 

“It’s for you, kid.”

“What is it?”

“Look inside of it stupid. It’s not like it’s a damn bomb.”

The boy opened the bag, peering inside and seeing an eyeliner stick and a small bottle of black nail polish, as well as eye makeup and nail polish remover. 

“For me?”

“Well we don’t own it, but it looks good on you. You can keep it in our apartment, so your dad won’t find it. And I’m sure if you like it, Akaashi can teach you how to do more complicated stuff. I might work in fashion, but he still has more makeup skills than most women I work with.”

“Oh,” Kyoutani blinked, something warm blooming in his chest. He would never admit how much it meant to him that Oikawa supported him doing something like this, but judging by the soft smile on his face, the man already knew. “Thank you.”

“No problem. And I’m sure if you want any test subjects, most of my friends would be more than happy to help”

“I doubt they’d want that.”

“Pssh, they’re all huge divas when you get down to it. Besides, diva or not, they all really like you.”

Kyoutani scoffed, but Oikawa could see the blush on the boy’s cheeks. They walked in compatible silence for the rest of the walk, Oikawa offering bits and pieces about the magazine, but mostly letting the comfortable quiet settle over them. 

When they got back to the apartment, Iwaizumi was cooking something. 

“Iwa-channn” Oikawa said, pressing a kiss to the back of the man’s head, “I’ve got the kid with me.”

“Hey Kyoutani” Iwaizumi said, turning to find the boy, and stopping when he saw his face. “Oikawa, did you put the kid in makeup?”

“What, no! He chose to-”

“Are you trying to force him to have an emo phase too?”

“No! He really does like it!”

Iwaizumi looked at Kyoutani for a moment, and Kyoutani held his gaze with a fiery glare. “You got a problem with that?”

“No!” Iwaizumi held his hands up, “I just wanted to make sure they didn’t force you into anything you didn’t want to do. In middle school, Oikawa used me as eyeliner practice so many times I’m surprised I still have _eyes_.” 

“My makeup skills are a bit… stabby,” The brown-haired man conceded, “But Akaashi did his.”

“Oh” Iwaiuzumi nodded, turning back to his pan, “Well it looks good, kid.”

Kyoutani stood in the doorway to the kitchen, clearly still ready for an argument. Oikawa rolled his eyes gently, patting Kyoutani’s hair and taking the boy’s backpack, placing it by the couch. Kyoutani relaxed when Iwaiuzmi didn’t engage further, instead going to look over the man’s shoulder at what he was cooking. 

“Hey,” Iwaizumi smiled, “I might actually be able to find some pictures of Oikawa from his emo phase in middle school, if you want to see them.”

“Iwa-chan? No- Iwa! No!” Oikawa yelled from the living room. Iwaizumi simply smiled, slipping into the bedroom and coming out with a small envelope labelled ‘ _Proof of Tax Returns 2013_ ”

“How did you find those! I made the label as _uninteresting_ as possible,” Oikawa whined, trying to grab the folder, which Iwaizumi held right out of reach. 

“We’ve been together for over ten years, Shitty-kawa,” Iwaizumi laughed, “I know that you have _no_ clue how to do taxes.”

“Dammit,” Oikawa cursed to himself, allowing Iwaizumi to slip away and hand the folder to Kyoutani. The boy dumped it out onto the counter, and a few dozen photos fell out. 

The blond began to sift through the photo’s, and it seemed the majority were Oikawa, dressed in black with eyeliner on and his hair swooping to the side. 

“Oh man” Iwaizumi smiled, holding one up, “remember when your room looked like this?” 

“Goddammit Iwa. I was having such a good day too”

“ _Ha_. Look at this one” Kyoutani pointed out. The photo was of Iwaizumi, shaky eyeliner on, eyes watering and frowning deadpanned at the camera. 

“I remember that. He _stabbed_ me in the eye, and took the picture before they stopped watering.”

“Iwa, _please_ ”

As much as Oikawa protested, he was laughing along with the other two as they sifted through increasingly embarrassing pictures of him. Feeling the need to justify his shitty, prepubescent choices, he pulled up some of the old music on his phone, impressing them both as he knew the words to every single song. Iwaizumi made fun of the other man, but Kyoutani caught him humming along to many of them. 

That night, Kyoutani stared in the mirror for a minute before taking the eyeliner off. He was staying the night at the apartment, so he was keeping the nail polish on, but he was told that sleeping in makeup would really mess it up. 

Ever since he was a child, people had told him that he was the spitting image of his father. They had similar faces, sure, but Kyoutani knew it was really the angry look in both of their eyes that made them stand apart from most people. When Kyoutani looked in a mirror, he saw his father and it had always made him feel a bit sick. 

Looking at himself now, though, he was shocked by how different he looked. With stripes on his hair and eyeliner around his eyes, it was easy to pretend he didn’t look like his father at all. It felt like the longer he spent away from his father, the less he saw his father in himself. He could now look in the mirror and see evidence of choices _he_ made that made him his own person. 

With this in mind, Kyoutani smiled at his reflection. His _own_ reflection. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! I don't write a ton of fluffy stuff so hopefully it was still good.
> 
> I know what I want to do for the next story, but after that I'm pretty flexible so if you have any requests for this story please let me know.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
